


The Lost One and His Torch

by UnoriginalAtBest



Category: Original Work
Genre: Androids, Gay, Loneliness, Longing, M/M, POV First Person, Past Abuse, Robots, War, it's not gonna be continued or anything, it's okay if you don't understand everything, rated for cuss words, some transformers slang rubbed off on me with this, this is just a thing i wrote to try and get to know my characters more, whoops, you're not suppose to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnoriginalAtBest/pseuds/UnoriginalAtBest
Summary: "I stopped walking. It was so abrupt I felt Osiris' body close enough to bump into me had he been a split second later. I turned toward him, the silence of an alley further away from the main streets bearing down on us like dead weight. My eyes found his once more, and then I asked, 'Why do you hate me so much?' And I sounded like a child, and I felt childish, but this question had been eating away at me for months."





	The Lost One and His Torch

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a story. I was really proud of this. Now I'm sharing it.

The Haven.

That's the name we gave it after its capture almost four months ago. Its real name, the one that only appeared on maps or official documents was dead. We killed it when we took this city and made it into a home. We beat it into the ground like the savages they thought we were, and the whole place still smelled like its carcass. The smell always returned no matter how many times we tried to cleanse these sullen streets. 

I didn't like roaming these streets. I never did, not even before the war. People always looked at me funny. They made me feel out of place, and they had done it on purpose. They wanted me to feel like an intruder, and it's fair to say they succeeded. But now, at night with a cloud-covered sky, the once bustling main street now barren except for a few wandering souls, cloaked in the shadows of the back alleys, alone, I finally felt at home. My only company was my thoughts. 

I could think properly out here. The loud noise of humans chattering away didn't reach the streets. I didn't feel the need to clench my fists at every sideways glance directed at me, didn't need to deal with any what-ifs or intrusions that prodded at my personal bubble, because even though those humans took up just a fifth of our base's population, I still never felt right. I felt like a puzzle piece shoved into the wrong junction with them lingering as they were. Or maybe they were the wrong puzzle piece, and I was the junction that got pushed around. I could never tell.

They weren't bad. Those humans were the kindest I'd ever met, but maybe that was why I was so leery. Their kindness surprised me, and I didn't buy it. It was too cheap, and not a single human before them bothered to set their prices below my unconditional loyalty and society's placement of where I fit in its hierarchy. But they did, and I thought it was a scam. Their kind were scammers, and I was the fool that thought he could win a million bucks from some dumb pop-up ad for the first half of my life. But then, when I looked at their kind faces and their kind eyes and their kind gestures, I thought I knew better. I didn't. I barely knew anything.

All I knew then was that I was lonely. Always annoyed, always frustrated. The only thing I thought of was survival and how much I missed the past. Every time I walked down these streets my eyes scanned for familiar faces, my ears searched for familiar voices, and my artificial skin reached out to brush against any energy that brought back good memories.

I was searching for my friends.

Those two had been so kind to me. Kind in a way unlike the humans, because every android before them looked at me like we'd been created right next to each other, limbs attached and processors synched. But we three had grown even closer than that. And for that reason, I never stopped flicking my eyes to every familiar face, tuning my ears at the sound of every familiar voice, or allowing my nerve sensors the go up a notch at the brush of any energy that brought back those beautiful memories.

I was searching that night too. As I hid in the shadows of a darkened alley far away from the street lights, my eyes caught sight of two familiar faces. Or rather, two familiar figures. I couldn't see their faces from where I was standing, but I could see them move. The way they walked, the way they clasped hands in that familiar, almost romantic way. It was too familiar, it brought back too many beautiful memories. Images of buildings that stood gorgeously appeared before my eyes rather than the ones of the present, decrepit and hardly standing at all. I saw smiles and heard laughter, and I felt like I was back there, with them, with the happiness that had fled with a pre-war society and an abusive lover and a glitched processor. I almost stepped out into the street lights, into the open where I would- I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do. Confront them? Demand they tell me where my friends were when I realized it wasn't them? I'm not sure. 

A hand on my shoulder and a deep voice forced the image from my vision. Suddenly the static was gone, the cracks had faded, and the happiness was fleeing once again. It was one of the few times I reveled in my defective coding.

"It's not them," the voice said. I felt like telling the voice, "Of course not, it never is," and, "Leave me alone," but I didn't want to speak. I remained silent and gritted my teeth and forced my eyes shut. I waited a moment, and slowly, slowly opened my eyes again. They found the pair of androids once more, faces now visible. It wasn't them.

I pushed the hand off of my shoulder in a fitful shrug. I didn't bother to turn around. I already knew who it was.

"It's foolish to run off like this in the middle of the night, Silas," the voice spoke again. I only rolled my eyes and let my eyelashes flutter.

"The base is too noisy," I said, finally working my vocal cords for the first time since the last time I spoke to the man behind me. I paused, then added, "Too fleshy," in hopes it would annoy him. He breathed out, and I felt my lips turn up into a satisfied smirk.

“You’ve indulged me in your hatred for humans far too many times for me to still care," he quipped back. My satisfied smirk was a fleeting one. I said nothing, only crossed my arms. "They're not all bad," he added after a moment. I pivoted on my heels and turned to face him, hair still settling back into place as the first few defensive words left my mouth.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, Osiris!" I felt spit fly out as I said his name, but he was too tall for it to reach his face. If I set my head straight, I'd only see a broad chest and strong shoulders. My high nose had to tilt higher when I spoke to him.

But he was unfazed. His dark eyes, even darker in the cloudy night only showed judgment and maturity. His arms were by his sides, limp and unafraid. He wasn't even shaking.

"But you come across that way," Osiris said, tone condescending like he was speaking to a child. "Honesty is nothing without proper incentive." His eyebrows furrowed, the slightest bit of emotion playing on his handsome features. I could only growl in frustration and stomp passed him. The eyes on my back, from the few androids wandering the streets no doubt, only fueled my anger. I knew the two familiar ones were peeking in along with the rest, and they were no longer familiar.

The sound of Osiris' footsteps bounced off of the alley walls mere seconds after I had stormed off. I didn't look back at him, but I knew he paid no mind to our audience. I could feel him behind me, presence strong and dominating.

"You sound like a prick, you know," I stated. I uncrossed my arms, eyes still fixed forward, not daring to give him the satisfaction of my focus just yet.

"And you sound like a toddler that can't get its way," he replied.

"See, that! That's exactly what I mean," I said with an I-told-you-so tone. 

"You've proven my point, as well," and for as mature as he seemed, no one mature would take the time to rile me up on purpose. 

I stopped walking. It was so abrupt I felt Osiris' body close enough to bump into me had he been a split second later. I turned toward him, the silence of an alley further away from the main streets bearing down on us like dead weight. My eyes found his once more, and then I asked, "Why do you hate me so much?" And I sounded like a child, and I felt childish, but this question had been eating away at me for months.

He blinked the neutral expression he had been wearing the whole time away. His face fell into confusion, and then suddenly realization, and then confusion again like the answer to an internal question only elicited more questions. "I don't," he finally said.

I stared at him, calculating, calculating, and, "Then why do you find something wrong with everything that I do?" His eyebrows furrowed, and pride welled up inside me thinking that I had stumped him, that I'd finally broken the bastard, caught him in a lie, something, I didn't care what. I felt like I had won.

But then the pause came. It was a pause that felt too long, a pause that you expected to end one second, but you were always barely off. It was a pause that buried the excitement you had at the beginning in dread because whatever came after would only knock the breath out of you. I didn't want to lay down and accept it, but Osiris was speaking before I realized the nature of the pause.

"It's not that I think there is something wrong with everything you do," he said genuinely, honestly, with a kindness that came too cheap because I knew I didn't deserve it. I didn't even recall paying him. "It's that you remind me of someone. Someone I knew very well but was too lost to return." 

Another pause came about as my eyes scanned his face, looking for a sign that he was lying, that he was just like all the other humans and was trying to scam me, but I found nothing. I wondered if perhaps I was still that fool who thought he could win a million dollars from a pop-up ad.

But he looked back at me with such a caring sternness I wondered if he was even real. I wanted him to laugh and say he was kidding but a laugh never came. He only uttered one last sentence that night.

"Perhaps, a small torch will help guide you back every once in a while."

I still, to this day, can't decide if I had dreamed all that up, if a human was capable of faking such kindness, or if he was just stupid enough to care. Maybe there was some truth to all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to make a book out of these characters and this universe. Hope ya like it. My writing blog on tumblr is @jayswriting if you wanna follow.


End file.
